


Drabble #4 - Aria

by DarthAstris



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: International Fanworks Day 2018, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-19 04:38:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13697022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthAstris/pseuds/DarthAstris
Summary: For the International Fanworks Day 2018 prompt: What does your favorite character—or your favorite pairing—get fannish over?In which Hux drags Kylo to his favorite pastime: the opera.





	Drabble #4 - Aria

Kylo Ren didn’t much care for the opera.  He didn’t hate it (the way some beings did), it just wasn’t his thing.  He never really understood it, or took time to learn about it, but he loved the way Hux’s eyes shined when he talked about it or anticipated a rare night out.  Armitage liked to pretend, as he did with most things, that excitement over such extravagant pleasures was for the weak and undisciplined.  Naturally, he enjoyed artistic performances with refined and dignified senses, as befitted a practice that carried such a profound, historical significance.

Kylo knew better. 

Though Hux’s hands and gaze remained steady as he fastened his dress tunic and tugged the hem of his uniform to pull out any imagined wrinkles, Kylo felt the buzz of his giddiness vibrating in the air around him. 

He smiled, knowing it wouldn’t be seen under the mask.

Hux turned to face him, managing to keep any hint of merriment from his voice.  “How do I look?”

Hux never asked how he looked -- he knew damn well how dapper he was in that uniform -- except when critical matters of state were at hand.  Several important businessmen and ambassadors from Cantonica would be attending tonight’s performance and reception, and the Supreme Leader was counting on his general to smooth the hyperlanes for the following day’s transactions.  Tensions were high, and Hux’s self-esteem was low.

Kylo opted for the crude route, hoping to diffuse the strain with a bit of humor.  His voice purred through the modulator, deep and carnal.  “Extremely fuckable.”

Hux pressed his lips together in irritation and sniffed out an exasperated sigh.  He chose not to respond to Kylo’s boorish attempt to rile him.  “Please tell me you’re not going to wear that… thing… all night.”

A faint chuckle crackled through the vocabulator, and Kylo reached up to unlatch the clasps under his jaw.  The mask separated with a soft hiss and Kylo pulled it off, shaking his hair free.  The dark locks fell in soft waves around his face, perfectly framing his odd features.  Hux continued to glare, even more irritated by Kylo’s effortless allure, certain that he must have secretly practiced that move thousands of times in front of a mirror.  He reached up, under the pretense of fixing a stray strand, and brushed his fingertips through Kylo’s feathery bangs.

“That’s better,” he grumbled, picking lint from Kylo’s shoulders.

Kylo watched him, suppressing a smile.  “What’s tonight’s program?”

“The Secession of Alderaan,” the chipper lilt in Hux’s voice faltered when it became apparent that Kylo had no idea what he was talking about.  “You haven’t heard it?”

“No.  Should I have?”

Hux’s eyebrows raised in momentary surprise.  “It’s one of the most well-known operas in galactic history, not to mention your… well,” he huffed, exasperated, “What does the Republic even teach in its schools?”

Kylo shrugged.

“Well, you’re in for a treat, then.” He smiled and tried to make it look matter-of-fact.  “Shyria Absaan is performing tonight.  Her voice is without peer.”

 

******************************

 

 _In for a treat, indeed._    Kylo watched Hux out of the corner of his eye as the house lights dimmed.   He’d accompanied Hux to enough of these outings to know that the real show wasn’t on stage.  It was right beside him. 

Hux’s carefully constructed demeanor faded with the light, to be replaced with an almost child-like sense of wonder as the curtain rose.  He felt safe, under cover of darkness, to allow himself to feel things he would never have permitted under the harsh, revealing lights of the ship.  The theater was the one place Hux didn’t fear the shadows.  Something about the spectacle soothed his fears, transporting him from his own troubled past into the lives and concerns of another time.  For a few hours, he could revel in the exquisite pain of the ephemeral beauty of music. 

HoloRecordings made for fine accompaniment to work or study, and he’d occasionally zoned out while listening to a particular piece, here and there, but nothing in the galaxy could compare to the elation he felt listening to the real thing.

The more Hux lost himself, the more little tells slipped through the cracks in his stoic veneer.  Occasionally, his gloved hands would grasp at the armrest or flutter up to his lips to obstruct a soft gasp, or his fingers would twitch as if to reach out for some snippet of melody he wanted to hold on to for just a bit longer.

Kylo wished he’d kept his mask on, so he wouldn’t have to muzzle his own exultation at Hux’s joy, or the melancholy that followed as the night pressed on and Hux replaced each vulnerability with cold and calculated responses, layer by layer, like a flower closing in on itself as the sun set.  At least he could be happy that, for a brief moment, he’d been allowed to share such an intimate occasion with the man he loved.


End file.
